At the Thanksgiving table I thank God for my family, my friends, my health and the thousand daily mercies that accompany my waking and sleeping. Gratitude wells up like a hidden spring as I consider all I have been given. Sometimes tears follow.
Like many of you I try to maintain an appreciative spirit every day in every situation. That's easy to do when my granddaughter smiles at me or when I slice a tomato from my very own garden. It's harder when I'm running late, the driver ahead of me on a two-lane road is traveling 20 miles per hour below the speed limit and I can't pass thanks to the double yellow line. Or, more significantly, when I learn of a friend's illness or job loss.
Lately I've been giving thanks for people who travel on the periphery of my life and friendships that last for a season or only a moment:
The teachers, aides and office staff who greet me when I arrive for a substitute assignment and readily adopt me into their school family.
The lady in line with me at Hobby Lobby who points out a newly-opened check out line and encourages me to make a break for it. As I place my greeting cards on the counter she smiles at me across the store, even as she continues to wait.
The couples Mr. Pettit and I meet through our travels, who share their life stories along with their dessert preferences as we gather for our nightly meal.
I think living in the moment enriches my life only when I use gratitude as my default mode, when I'm certain I'll find something to be thankful for in each moment, even if it's only the regularity of my own breathing.
As I write this I thank God for waking me two hours before my alarm, giving me time to compose this column before I plunge into Thanksgiving Eve busyness.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends!
Like many of you I try to maintain an appreciative spirit every day in every situation. That's easy to do when my granddaughter smiles at me or when I slice a tomato from my very own garden. It's harder when I'm running late, the driver ahead of me on a two-lane road is traveling 20 miles per hour below the speed limit and I can't pass thanks to the double yellow line. Or, more significantly, when I learn of a friend's illness or job loss.
Lately I've been giving thanks for people who travel on the periphery of my life and friendships that last for a season or only a moment:
The teachers, aides and office staff who greet me when I arrive for a substitute assignment and readily adopt me into their school family.
The lady in line with me at Hobby Lobby who points out a newly-opened check out line and encourages me to make a break for it. As I place my greeting cards on the counter she smiles at me across the store, even as she continues to wait.
The couples Mr. Pettit and I meet through our travels, who share their life stories along with their dessert preferences as we gather for our nightly meal.
I think living in the moment enriches my life only when I use gratitude as my default mode, when I'm certain I'll find something to be thankful for in each moment, even if it's only the regularity of my own breathing.
As I write this I thank God for waking me two hours before my alarm, giving me time to compose this column before I plunge into Thanksgiving Eve busyness.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends!